2006-05-07
cope
I haven't written in so long because I haven't known what to say. There is lots I could write, almost in a passively bursting balloon. But I don't know if I want to.
I could describe the curvature of a smile within my best friend's face. But I think I'll save that one for my mind.
Three weeks are that that remain until the end of my high school career. I know graduation day will be surreal, and that kind of irritates me. It seems like when these big, immense moments happen, I don't even really realize it while they occur. They don't register in my head, and the magnitude doesn't seem real. I don't want that. I want to be there valiantly, dressed in this black thing with the weird cap you would never wear otherwise, and feel a rush as I'm handed this piece of paper that signifies my last thirteen years of scholastic learning experience.
...I'll just stop there, for now. You know I have more to say about it, but I'll probably just save that to later.
I'm going to Carleton College next year. I don't know if I've publically announced that to myself on here yet. Well, I am. And this aspect of my future has remained wonderfully un-surreal. I had an "incredible experience" there, and in due time will probably end up gushing about all the things I loved about it, if for no other reason then to just keep me afloat when I get there and realize how hard it is. But I simply liked it there. I actually have been dreaming about it lately. It's always nice, but nebulous.
Tabby and Vinnie were in my dream last night, too; they were giggling in an elevator at Carleton. If there was one "off" button I really wish I had, it would be to make me oblivious to the infatuating pursuits of my exboyfriend. It's annoying and a little aching to watch him fawn after people. I think I just always had it programmed in me to want that for myself from him, and it's still weird for me to see that impassioned look in his eyes ardently focused on someone else. Even with the foreverago it was, remnants still remain. And that's why an "off" button would really come in handy. But everybody plays the fool, sometime.
Everybody plays the fool
Fallin� in love is such an easy thing to do
But there�s no guarantee that the one you love, is gonna love you
Oh, loving eyes they cannot see a certain person could never be
Love runs deeper than any ocean, it clouds your mind with emotion
Everybody plays the fool, sometime
There�s no exception to the rule, listen baby
It may be factual, it may be cruel, I ain�t lying
Everybody plays the fool
How can you help it, when the music starts to play
And your ability to reason, is swept away
Oh, heaven on earth is all you see, you�re out of touch with reality
And now you cry, but when you do, next time around someone cries for you
Hey, everybody plays the fool, sometime
Dear Petie: That Thursday was quite honestly one of the worst nights of my life, in a horribly dramatic way I suppose. How you treated me was only the start of it. Then what hurt sickeningly worse was that through all the pain that night, the one person I needed the most, you, was not there for me in so many ways.
That's all I could ever really say to her about it, and a long, unsent letter remains. I don't feel any semblance of her soul anymore. I hope things get better, but it seems like I always hope for that. But I think that as long as she's physically there I won't cry about it anymore.
To cope is a very compelling. Coping perches gently in a space between surviving and solving. I'm trying to cope with my life.
Jack Johnson in the sunshine can probably make anyone feel better. It does for me, if I draw my legs straight up against a tree and let the blow flow down from them in a whimsy defiance of gravity. We used to do this after soccer practice in ninth grade.
Mr. Smith used to ask us how we wanted to be remembered. I extend it a selfish step: how do I want to remember myself? As a lonely brooding girl "coping" with my academic mediocrity and struggle for willpower in my life? I don't reach out for anything. I think it's because my arms hurt, and I flail them instead close to my body, a maneuver which could never draw in all the things that I don't know that I want. Enough stupid metaphors. Moving onward.
Because that's what we do at this place, we just keep rolling. Look at those lillies. They blossom. I can manage the same. Julian says spring is a lot harder for most people than the weather makes it seem like it would be. He's probably right. I mean, he is going to Yale next year.. har-har. I'm allowed to be proud.
We talk too much during English class. We really do. But I like it.
Last of the AP's tomorrow. Whew. I really don't want May to zoom. I want to allow myself to revel in it.
All I need is a little time,
To get behind this sun and cast my weight,
All I need is a peace of this mind,
Then I can celebrate.
Love,
Lisa
leesah-likes at 11:48 a.m.